


Where Such Roads Always Lead

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-29
Updated: 2012-02-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 22:05:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set directly after Castiel's death, Dean is struggling to cope (that is where canon ends). What Dean doesn’t know, to begin with, is that Castiel’s punishment is to have to watch Dean, unable to be seen or heard. Dean’s denial of his death, prompted by a series of dreams, turns into an unshakeable faith that he’s still alive. A fellow Angel takes pity on their situation and ramps up Cas’ powers, allowing Castiel and Dean to have a more physical relationship. However that short recompense becomes their downfall. Meanwhile Crowley and The Leviathan have their own plans to claim the world. With Dean driven half mad by Cas’ sudden disappearance and the price for Cas’ crimes being his Grace, they can’t even see the world ending around them. A rather angst, desperation fuelled fic, focusing on emotional outbursts and a unhealthy astral relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Such Roads Always Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Explicit sexual content, violence, torture (both main and non-main characters), background alcoholism, explicit language, AR/canon deviation. This is a dark!fic, please heed the wrnings.

He kept the coat. He’d lied when Sam had asked him why, he’d said he didn’t know why. But to him it was obvious why the coat should be kept. Because one day a very pissed off, soaking wet angel would come though his door, demanding to know where it was and he would be there, looking after it for him. He just couldn’t put that into words, not for Sam and not for Bobby.

He hung it up to dry naturally, not over a fire. It seemed more proper like that. It had taken a surprisingly long time. When it was done, he carefully folded it, wrapped it in plastic and put it at the bottom of his holdall. He tried to do it without emotion but despite the fact it should smell damp and horrible, it still smelt like him. The world was a bitch like that.

He told himself that no matter how tempting it was, no matter how much of a shitty day he’d had and no matter how much he missed Cas, he would not remove it from that bag. That was a resolution that had lasted three hours and twenty seven minutes, following a fight he’d half picked with Sam.

-x-

“Can I get you anything?” Sam asked, breaking Dean’s staring contest with the bag that was still sat on his bed.

“Like what?” Dean sighed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, a drink maybe, some food. Company?”

“I’m not hungry and I’m not in the mood to start crying into my cornflakes with you.”

“Dean, I understand what you’re going through.”

“Great, then leave me to it.” He got up and opened the door, gesturing Sam out of it and locking it behind him.

“Dean! I haven’t got a key” Sam shouted back through the door and Dean pretended he hadn’t heard. He was pretty sure it was dark and raining but he didn’t have it in him to care.

Instead he kicked one of the corner posts of the bed, shouting wordlessly until his throat gave out on him. He sank down onto the bed, hands itching with the need to hit something but lacking the energy to actually do so. Instead his hands reached out for the bag, dragging the zip across and pushing it open. He tossed aside his clothes and pulled back the layer of plastic, running his fingertips across the material. It was dirty and speckled with blood but to wash it would be sacrilege. He covered it back over, promising himself that’d be the last time he saw it until Cas came back for it.

-x-

The first thing Castiel was aware of was his lack of lines, his lack of boundaries and in essence his lack of a vessel. It had been a long time since he’d been like this and even longer since it hadn’t been his own personal choice. He’d expected to be dust in the air, wind in the leaves or to be sent to hell, purgatory even. What he hadn’t expected was to be back in heaven, with yet another slate wiped clean for him. He’d done so much damage, he’d been so misguided and the world was probably ash by now because of him. Even he knew he didn’t deserve this.

He vaguely recognized the room he was in; it was borrowed from a county court judge who loved his job just a little too much. It was where Angels held trials, judged people and more often than not handed out death sentences. He’d sat on the jury on more occasions that he cared to remember. Now he was being judged.

After hours, more likely days of standing silent, he was finally asked his side of the story. It was pulled out of him unwillingly, in sparkling truth. Corruption, abuse of power, pride, greed, murder, blasphemy. Almost every sin in the book. They didn’t care for motives or shame; they just looked over facts with cold hearts and doled out the best punishment they could think of.

He was to return to Earth as the guardian Angel he was meant to have been in the first place. He was to watch, without the ability to be seen, to affect anything without divine permission. He accepted, resigned to being declared powerless and slightly disappointed they hadn’t put him to death. They were cruel, they could feel his guilt and they knew leaving him to wallow in it would be much more painful to him than any execution could be.

“Who is my charge?” He asked, despite the sinking feeling he was already having.

“Dean Winchester”

-x-

The rules were the same as always; watch your charge, protect your charge but under no circumstances reveal yourself to your charge. Castiel had never felt so powerless before. Last time with Dean, he’d been given special privileges due to the nature of Dean’s destiny but this time he was going to be an unwilling witness to a world he used to be part of. It was a fate worse than being a spirit, at least they could materialise if they wished to.

They gave him one token of sympathy; they let him choose his form. They’d scorned his decision but indulged him. For him, it would have been wrong to walk in the shadows of Dean’s life looking like anyone else. Not that he’d see him, of course but it made him feel more like himself, wearing the late Jimmy Novak. Another death he was responsible for.

They sent him back while Dean was sleeping, a small mercy which meant there were no lights to flicker as a sign of his return to Earth. Instead he was greeted by darkness, gentle breathing and what felt like a half of his insides trying to escape. Dean was alone, there was an empty bottle of Scotch on the dresser and his soul looked like it was inches from giving up entirely. Castiel got the impression this was the first time he’d slept in days and that was only because it was aided by the alcohol. What did surprise him was the fact he’d only been gone little over a week. He couldn’t pretend Dean was in the spiral of some unrelated disaster, this was grief, grief over him and his actions.

Unfortunately for him, Dean’s energy was what fuelled him, his soul giving him strength and at the moment it couldn’t even give its owner strength. Whatever power Cas had left was drained away, sucked in by the despair and anger that was eating Dean up, leaving him feeling what Dean was feeling. Exhaustion seeped into him, forcing him onto the spare empty bed, the one Sam should have been in. He slept there, the sheets not even registering his presence until sunlight seared his eyes.

-x-

Dean woke, taking a second to breathe before all the various pains sunk back in. Bruises and cuts, a pounding head and a throat that felt like it had been surgically scraped and finally guilt and loss. Those last two were the ones he couldn’t make go away with Advil and more drink.

He considered staying in bed for the rest of eternity and pretending the world didn’t exist but he knew sooner or later he’d start climbing the walls. So he stood, stretched and congratulated himself on falling asleep fully dressed. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his holdall, knowing the last thing he needed was to be blinded by the inevitable bright sunlight that waited for him outside. 

He paused by Sam’s empty bed and felt worse. He wasn’t sure whether it was guilt for leaving his brother out in the rain or his inability to actually talk to him but something about that empty bed made him long to just curl up on it and never leave.

He shook his head, telling himself the world doesn’t come to a standstill because you have. Normally, it throws more shit at you.

-x-

Dean tapped on the car window, waking Sam up with a start and gesturing for him to wind down the window; he’d obviously made the backseat his bed for the night. “I’m sorry for being a bitch and kicking you out.”

“Probably a good thing, I heard...” Dean cut him off with a glare.

“Get your stuff, we’re moving on.” He opened the driver’s door and got in the car.

“Shouldn’t we wait and see if anything happens?”

“Happens with what?”

“With Cas, he was an Angel, he could have...”

“He’s gone, Sam! Dude took a long walk into a reservoir.” Dean’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “It’s been ten days. Get your stuff.”

-x-

Castiel felt his strength come back slowly and by the time he’d come to, Dean was gone. He sat up and closed his eyes, searching for Dean’s soul among millions. When he found it, it was angry. Angry with Cas, angry with Sam and feeling pure hatred for himself. Feeling just a second hand fraction of that made his chest tight but he held onto it; letting it pull him to where they were. He materialised in to the back seat of a car so tense, the air was thick. The car stalled and Dean swore at it.

“Do you want me to drive?” Sam asked cautiously.

“I wasn’t even...No, I’m fine.” Dean started the car back up; almost sure it had stalled of its own accord. “Damn thing. Have you found us a job yet?”

“No. The papers are clean, almost too clean.” Sam folded the paper he was holding and let it drop into his lap. “Bobby’s?”

“Bobby’s.” Dean nodded and swerved the car around, putting Sam on edge despite the fact they had the road to themselves.

Castiel used the car journey to try out his few remaining powers. Now that Dean was taking his aggression out on Sam and not just himself, Cas found it a lot easier to think straight and keep himself ticking over. He found he could still affect electrical objects, as he had guessed he would but that only served to antagonize Dean further. He could also affect temperature and humidity levels, something he was sure would be useless in most given circumstances. He could feel objects but he couldn’t alter them in any way, with the exception of organic life which he couldn’t touch at all. Any time he tried they seemed to find convenient ways to slip just out of reach. He was running on basic, bare bones of divine powers and he couldn’t blame them, in their position, he wouldn’t trust himself not to abuse them either, because he knew given half a chance he would. 

The only useful power he discovered was that he could plant images or thoughts into their minds. If he concentrated on a burger, Dean would suggest they stop for one. Cas suspected this would come in very handy seeing as at the moment Dean seemed rather indifferent to necessities such as eating and sleeping. He used this to his advantage for the rest of the journey, sitting with his head back and eyes closed sending calming and warm thoughts to Dean, taking some of the weight off his soul.

-x-

When they got to Bobby’s Dean felt almost human, he felt hungry and tired but oddly normal. He couldn’t say he was happy because fundamentally all his thoughts still swam round like sharks in his head. Why had he done it, why had he let him, what had happened to the real Cas after he’d metaphorically left the building? All these thoughts flowed out into the air, so strong that Cas felt them in his head too, like a physical presence. Dean’s grief, manifested.

Aside from that, Dean was strong enough to put on a brave face. He smiled when the door opened and graciously accepted the drink when it was offered rather than instantly pouring it himself. He sat through theories and research into the Leviathans that in all frankness he didn’t give a crap about. He even put up with Sam and Bobby’s attempts to make him feel better. To their credit, neither of them dared to bring up what had happened with Castiel which he was immeasurably grateful for because no matter how hard a façade he put up, he couldn’t even think about it without it wrenching at his heart.

When he took a walk outside at about half one in the morning, Castiel followed him without even thinking about it. Dean paced silently for a few minutes before coughing, clearing his throat.

“I know this is stupid and you’re not going to answer because, well because you’re dead but this has always worked in the past so you never know. Castiel, if you are out there somewhere, even if you’re not you, even if you’re that screechy, burn your eyes out son of a bitch, just tell me. Just tell me you’re still out there and I’m not going to have to sit around, inhaling half my weight in alcohol just to get through the day. Or that I won’t get stuck as a miserable, faithless bastard like I am now.” 

Dean coughed again, this time forcing back tears. He stopped pacing too, choosing a smashed in car bonnet and sitting down on it, staring directly ahead where Cas was stood watching, not that he knew it on any conscious level.

“Before you I didn’t believe in Angels and God and all that. I was happy to go along thinking my life was shit just because it was. Now I’m sat here and there’s nothing I need more than for you to pull a miracle out of your ass and turn up and glue it all back together. It’s all fucked a million ways from Sunday and you’re not here. You’re not here, right?”

Castiel longed to act, to do something to stop Dean’s heart from breaking in front of him but he couldn’t, all he could do was to sit as close to him as the rules allowed, emanate love in his direction and give himself a moment to grieve everything they’d both lost. Despite their flaws and their rough patches he’d loved him with more ferocity than he’d ever felt for a human, even if he hadn’t thought so. He watched as Dean broke, as tears forced their way out and loss flowed back in, knowing despite how painful it felt, it was a step in the right direction. His soul was shining again because he was letting himself feel.

-x-

Castiel spent a lot of time just watching. Watching Dean and picking up on all the little things everyone else couldn’t. Like the fact he invariably paused before pouring each drink, a look of resignation and regret passing over his face for just a second, like he had no choice. Or how tense he held himself, physically and emotionally, around others, a fact that only became obvious when he thought he was alone and let it all fall down. And the way he’d flinch when anyone mentioned the uneasy quiet that surrounded the Leviathans and the angels, even more so when anyone went to mention Castiel, backtracking quickly when faced with Dean’s angry glare.

All these things Castiel could see for what they were, stepping stones on a path to self destruction. He’d suffered them himself in the past few months, becoming irrationally angry at the mere mention of Dean or Sam from anyone that wasn’t one of the two of them or himself. Being a creature of higher intelligence, he should have acknowledged the signs of his own downward spiral like he would have done if he’d seen it in anybody else. But when one is on a road of good intentions, they never want to see that in leads straight into the mouth of their own personal hell.

All these observations and this self-reflection occurred in the few hours between Dean’s first honest outburst and his finally giving in and calling it a night, everything in between had been a series of fake smiles and indifferent research. The world could have ended and Castiel doubted that Dean would have even blinked.

The only noticeable sign that something was up with him was that for the first time in his life, he asked to use Bobby’s spare room instead of sharing with Sam whatever expanse of floor was available.

He excused himself, picking up his bag from the hallway as he made his way to the staircase. Sam and Bobby exchanged a look, silently communicating that something was obviously up.

Castiel followed him up to the spare room, knowing that when humans slept was the best time for an Angel to recharge their batteries, dreams were surprisingly powerful things in that respect. He watched Dean pace around the room before sighing and sitting down on the bed. For a minute he looked like he was going to say something, Cas could almost see his thoughts fighting to escape but he just silently kicked off his shoes and jeans and put himself to bed.

After a while, Cas found himself at a loss for what to do. Watching humans wasn’t always the most thrilling prospect in the world but at least while they were awake they were entertaining. With Dean it was better and worse at the same time, it was like being in a whole other world despite the fact he was only meters away from him at most. But it gave him a sense of belonging, even if nobody could feel him there, he was still looking out for his friends, he still loved them.

He sat down on the floor beside Dean’s head, despite the fact he was fast asleep by now. He couldn’t hear him anyway.

“I’m still sorry Dean.” He watched Dean’s face animate for a split second, in reaction to some dream or nightmare. Out of habit Castiel leaned forward, brushing his fingers over Dean’s forehead in an attempt to calm his mind.

It wasn’t until his fingers actually touched skin that he remembered they shouldn’t have been able to do so. He let his fingers linger, his head titled slightly, trying to work out what was happening and what it meant.

The world blinked away, replaced with a familiar scene. Cas had been here before and he wasn’t proud of the memory. He was sure it was his memory as he’d never shared it with Dean, for obvious reasons. It was his first step on that famous road.

He watched as Dean scraped leaves up of the ground, his back to him. He was staring distantly at the house he used to live in. He turned after a while, stopping suddenly instead of seeing right through him.

“Cas, you have got to stop popping up in my dreams like this.” Dean leant the rake against a tree and folded his arms. “It’s not healthy, apparently.”

“This is your dream?” Castiel asked, even more confused by this turn of events.

“Of course it is, you’re dead and I’m grieving. Sam said it was called displacement or some crap. I can’t get over you, so my brain keeps chucking you back at me.” Dean shrugged and shook his head.

“I don’t understand, you can see me?”

“From the tie to the trench coat, isn’t 20/20 vision wonderful.” Dean said, starting to sound bitter.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t pull that, this is my dream, if I wanted a pity party I’d be having one.”

“What _do_ you want?” Castiel took a few steps towards him, pushing his newfound luck.

“I want to have a normal day. Not other people normal but us normal. I want all four of us here, researching, hunting, working a job. I want to forget for five minutes that you’re gone and the world’s probably going to go to hell in a hand basket sooner or later. I want denial.”

“It’s not in my powers to do that.” Castiel looked down at the ground, thinking of how many times he’d thought the exact same thing.

“This is my mind, it’s my party.” Dean walked over to a bench, sitting down on it and waiting for Cas to join him. “Just sit there and shut up and we’ll pretend.”

Castiel sat down and tensed when Dean leaned into him, resting his head on his shoulder.

“That’s not happened in any other dream of yours I’ve been in.” He muttered with the barest intonation of a question.

“I’ve missed you. More than is probably healthy. I don’t know if it’s because I feel responsible...”

“You weren’t responsible.”

“If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to shut up and let me talk.” Dean said, sounding more resigned than annoyed. “I don’t know if it’s that or the way we parted but I can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, look at me; I’m using my own dreams to have some weird therapy session with an Angel that has ceased to be. No offense. During the day it’s worse, I just get you out of my head then Sam’ll ask me if I’m ok or Bobby will come up with a theory on the Leviathans and it’ll all come flooding back. It’s like a bad break up and herpes combined. Again, no offense. So I have a drink and all that changes it that I’ll be thinking of you less coherently which is probably not a good thing either. Then I go to sleep and here you are again. So we’re going to sit here and you’re going to tell me everything’s going to be fine, ok?”

“Ok”

-x-

“You’d tell me if you were here, wouldn’t you Cas?” Dean asked, catching Castiel off guard.

A lot of time had passed in this garden that wasn’t really there. In theory it should be night by now but the sun seemed to have ignored that fact.

“I am here” Castiel considered touching Dean in some way to reinforce his presence but couldn’t think of an adequate gesture. The last few hours had been very confusing; Dean had gone from wanting comfort to blaming him and wanting answers that he couldn’t give him. Now he was pacing back and forth, crossing Castiel’s line of vision every few seconds.

“Not like this, this doesn’t count. If you were really around somewhere, not dead, you would come back, if you could?”

“And if I said I couldn’t?”

“I probably wouldn’t believe you. In fact, I don’t believe it now. This silence from all you guys, something’s not right. I think they won’t let you come back. Because of me.”

“Why because of you?” Castiel held out his arm, forcing Dean to stand still.

“Before you met me, you were a good guy. You followed orders, you were the perfect Angel and I made you turn your back on that.”

“You gave me freedom.”

“And look what happened.” Dean sat down again, so he could stare straight ahead without having to look at him.

“That wasn’t your fault, it was mine.” This time he did reach out, his hand resting on Dean’s shoulder for a split second before the garden spiralled away, leaving him sprawled on the wooden floor of the spare room at Bobby’s. Back in reality.

Dean woke with a start, breath rushing out of him like he’d been holding it. He looked as disorientated as Castiel felt which wasn’t surprising as he knew even less about what was going on. If his head was spinning, who knows how badly a human would be affected.

He’d been able to enter dreams before but now he had lost any control he used to have on that power. It was like being flung from one dimension to another, not entirely pleasant but worth it.

-x-

“Finally” Bobby said as Dean entered the study him and Sam were working in.

“What?” Dean asked rubbing his head.

“It’s four in the afternoon.” Sam filled in.

“Yeah, we couldn’t wake you for love or money.” Bobby said, leaving the study and busying himself with making fresh coffee.

“I guess was more tired than I thought”

“We’ve found a job” Sam passed a newspaper over to Dean.

It read like so many other jobs. Babysitter, locked house, various severed limbs, kids didn’t see anything.

“I think I’ll sit this one out.” Dean passed the paper back and got a concerned look in return.

“But yesterday you were itching for a job”

“I don’t know, I just don’t...feel like it. Maybe I’m coming down with something”

“Sure?”

“Yep. You and Bobby take it. I’ll mind the phones.” Dean took a seat at Bobby’s desk in an attempt to look like he really wanted to be helpful.

“Alright. Do you mind if we...” Sam trailed off, looking out the window at the car.

“Course” Dean took the keys from his pocket and chucked them to Sam.

“Ok then. See you in a few?” 

“Bring me back a monster head” Dean smiled.

“What are you planning?” Castiel asked unheard from where he was leaning against the door frame, watching Dean as he hurried Sam and Bobby out the house. Sam whispered something to Bobby before they both left, giving fake smiles and cheery waves. They didn’t buy it either.

-x-

The instant the car pulled away, Dean started pulling out drawers, being careful to put everything back in its right place. On the outside he looked calm and collected but Castiel could hear his heart pounding and feel the way his blood was rushing in his head.

“Damn it Bobby, you don’t throw shit like this away.”

He knew what Dean was looking for and he knew it was pointless. He could see the misplaced determination in his eyes, he didn’t really think it’d work but it was better than admitting defeat. He was thinking of that night, when all the lights had blown and the roof had threatened to come off. The first of many subsequent summons. His mind so fixed on Enochian symbols that he could have passed the very same instructions in plain English and not noticed. He was starting to look desperate. The job Sam and Bobby were on was only a few dozen miles away, if there were no hitches they could be back in a few days.

-x-

After a few hours of searching, Dean sat back down at the desk, relenting to the tumbler of Scotch that he’d poured and a pizza he’d ordered. It was dark and he knew tomorrow morning would be the start of the endless phone calls that were normally on Bobby’s shoulders, not to mention the fact he’d undoubtedly be called upon to act as their own personal research centre. He couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit sorry for Bobby. This was his life because of him and Sam.

He took in the silence of the house and felt bizarrely lonely, like his mission to find a way to drag his friend back to him had been keeping him company.

Castiel watched, trying to decide between helping and hindering his friend. The ritual wouldn’t work either way but what would be worse for Dean, failing or not being able to try.

He made Dean sleep, partly because he couldn’t bear to watch him let a lost piece of paper get the better of him. But he’d also wanted Dean asleep so that he’d dream and give Castiel a chance to be there with him.

He sat down on the edge of the table and reached out his hand, meaning to brush Dean’s but it went straight through him.

“Come on, Dean. Let me in.” Castiel shook his hand like it had a loose connection and tried again to no avail.

He stared at Dean, trying to work out what he was doing wrong. He was asleep, like last time and Cas was more charged than before, having had a day of himself play constantly on Dean’s mind. If he’d been a vain Angel, like before, his own self-image would have inflated by now. Dean wanted to find him so badly, which was much more than he deserved. He didn’t deserve forgiveness, much less longing. Though he had to admit, he felt what Dean felt. Despite the millennia he’d spent among humans, he’d never been so affected by one until he was assigned the Winchesters. Heaven was right; he harboured too much affection for Dean. Better Angels had been killed for less. But as he so frequently told Dean; he was special. He really was. 

Castiel reached out for his hand again, this time not really caring if it worked or not. He just wanted to touch him, to remember something of what he’d had and that was what had been missing.

He was uprooted from reality again. It was the same room, in fact neither of them had moved but it felt different. Real and at the same time so much stronger than what was real. 

“I’m dreaming” Dean’s eyes opened, he raised his head, looked at Cas and smiled.

“Yes but that is irrelevant. You can’t summon me, it won’t work.”

“How did you know I was trying to summon you?” Dean’s eyes narrowed and out of habit Castiel looked away. “You’re watching me, aren’t you? I knew it!”

“Or I’m your subconscious trying to protect you”

“No, if I were to go all Jiminy Cricket, you’d be Amanda Seyfried.”

“Really.”

“Dude, she kisses girls. A lot.”

“Then why would she be interested in you?” Castiel asked, missing the point entirely.

“Not important. I don’t buy it. This isn’t my mind talking, it’s you. If it were my dream, you’d be telling me everything I want to hear, not fighting me.”

“I’m not fighting you, Dean, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up over something destined to fail.”

“It can’t be destined to fail; I’ve not even met her.” Dean smiled uneasily, avoiding the truth.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I have to do something, Cas. I can’t lose you on top of everyone else, I just can’t.”

“It won’t work.”

“I don’t care. Just let me try and pretend it might.” Dean reached out his hand, mirroring the move Castiel had made moments earlier and sending the world spiralling away.

-x-

Dean woke to a phone ringing. He took a few seconds to compose himself and sound less like he’d been asleep a few seconds earlier.

“Agent Tyler. Yes, they’re on Federal orders. No, I understand, you’re just doing your job. Have a nice day.” Dean hung up the phone and checked the clock. “Not bad, guys, you’ve been rattled before lunchtime.”

He cleared the empty pizza box from Bobby’s desk, accidentally knocking a piece of loose paper to the floor. He crouched down and picked it up, scanning it and turning it over. It was the summoning spell, nothing else written on it and no sign where it had come from. If he’d been thinking logically, he would have thought about the fact he’d had a drink the night before and hadn’t been exactly thorough with his search but at that moment he could only think one thing.

“Castiel! If you can leave a paper trail, you can get down here now, you bastard! Castiel! Dean shouted until his throat gave out.

“Sorry to shatter the illusion sweetheart, but it’s just me.” Crowley rounded the corner, revealing himself.

“Get out.” Dean glared at him.

“So, you don’t need my help then? Fair enough, we’ll let the world burn then. Nice seeing you.” Crowley smiled sarcastically, waiting for Dean to give in.

“Fine. What do you know?”

“I know he’s been here, your fine feathered friend. I can smell him over that repugnant cheap Scotch you’ve been drinking.”

“You can _smell_ him?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Calm down, princess, whatever you’re thinking I’m sure isn’t a depravity he would sink to. Believe me I’ve tried. It’s a demon thing, they can smell us and we can smell them.” 

“What does he smell like?” Dean asked, curiosity winning out over his dignity, just a little bit.

“Like sunshine and meadows. I don’t know, it’s more like a warning sign. Somehow I don’t think that’s the biggest concern at the moment.”

“What is out biggest concern?” Dean crossed his arms and leant against the desk.

“Those pesky Leviathans.”

“But they’ve been pretty quiet, eerily so in fact.”

“No, it appears they’ve been silent. What they’ve actually been doing is preparing. Now, if they just wanted to take over earth, I’d be all for it but they’ve got sights on my playground and upstairs as well. They want the whole toy box and nobody seems to want to do anything about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Angels have washed their hands of it. They’ll defend what’s theirs when they have to but other than that, they’re out. Which leaves me to defend Hell and now by proxy Heaven and Earth.”

“I thought you didn’t care about Earth?”

“And I don’t. However, I don’t really want them to have that kind of fuel in their fires either. I’d rather help you poor sods than risk you adding to the ranks of Leviathans.”

“And why should we trust you?”

“First of, there is no _we_ , it’s just you. No Bobby, no Sam or any other possible voices of reason. Call me touchy but I’m having some trust issues since Cas had his God complex. And you will trust me because who else have you got? The Angels left humans to their fate a long time ago and the one you had in your pocket has been put on the Angelic kiddie table.”

“What do you mean? What’s happened to Cas?” Dean stood up straight, his eyes widening of their own accord.

“I can’t say. No, I really can’t cause I don’t know. He just feels _less_ than he used to.”

“Wait, you can _feel_ him too?”

“Drop it, it’s purely...spiritual. And if you even think about asking what he feels like, I’m going to leave this whole planet to its demise.”

“Look, I know we’re meant to be talking business but I can’t help it. Is he ok?”

“He’s alive, which is usually a good sign. But that means nothing to us until we can nail his arse to this plane of existence. Wherever he is now, he’s not here.”

-x-

Castiel had been dragged from Dean’s dream with the ringing of a telephone. When he regained consciousness he wasn’t with Dean, he was alone and he mourned the small touches that he’d received. Nothing enough to question Dean’s motives but they had reassured him that in Dean’s eyes, they were still friends.

He didn’t recognize the room he was in; it was decadent and Italian looking. It was empty aside from a woman draped over a chaise longue. She had long auburn hair, pinned back and her eyes were closed.

“Hello?” Castiel asked uncertainly, not wanting to disturb the woman but seeing no other option.

“Castiel.” She answered, opening her eyes. “I was told to expect you.” She got up from her seat and approached him.

“I see.” Castiel nodded, despite his lack of understanding.

“No, you don’t but that’s neither here nor there. I am Ambriel, I’m in charge of passing information from you to Heaven and vice versa. I hope we can get along despite these difficult circumstances.” She extended her hand and smiled when Castiel took it.

“How much do you know about my circumstances?”

“Everything. You were a naughty boy and now you’re being punished in a way that both befits your crime and is of use to Heaven. I also know that you have more power than they think you do and I know it’s hurting you to not be able to comfort your friend.”

“You know that from receiving revelation?” Castiel asked, worried by how much she knew.

“Not all of it, no. Perk of the job, I’m the Angel of Communication; I quite literally know what you’re thinking. That was why you were assigned to me, apparently you can’t be trusted.”

“Yes, I can understand that.” Castiel looked away from her, his thoughts lingering on the many times he’d rebelled and betrayed Heaven and how he knew he didn’t deserve even this lowly position.

“I also know that you’ve been breaking the rules and as difficult as that is, you’re getting better at it.” She smiled knowingly.

“How have I been breaking the rules? I haven’t done anything to aid or abet my charge and I haven’t revealed myself, I just watch.” He didn’t quite know why he was concealing the truth, she’d see it anyway.

“His dreams, Castiel. He knows too much about us to not see what you’re doing for what it really is. This might be overstepping a line as we’ve just met but I sense you care very deeply for this human and you know how dangerous that is.”

“I can’t stand idly by when I can do something.” He dug his nails into the palms of his hands. He wasn’t angry at her but at himself, for being caught so easily, in so little time.

“I’m not your parent Castiel and I’m not invested in human fates but I will give you this one gift. I will put the matter out of my mind.”

“Does that mean you won’t stop me?” 

“It means that it is your choice to risk your life, if you so desire.”

“Thank you.” Castiel reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. It was a human gesture he’d picked up but it seemed appreciated. 

“Don’t mention it. Really, don’t. I don’t want my head on the block if you’re found out. Shall we get back to business?”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Castiel nodded.

“Dean Winchester is being approached by the King of Hell as we speak. While Heaven has stated it has no interest in the Leviathans unless they threaten us, we do not want Hell winning this battle any more than we want them to. We can’t have Dean helping him, is that understood?”

“And how can I conceivably stop that from happening if I can’t help him?”

“Like I said, I will put what I know about your trips into Dean’s head out of my mind, I never said you should do likewise.”

“If that’s so, I’m going to need more power to keep them stable. As it is, I can only enter his mind under great effort and I cannot predict my longevity there.”

“We’re being watched.” She glanced upwards to the ceiling. Like many in heaven, it wasn’t really there.

“Is there nothing you can do?”

“We’re not being listened to. I’m going to faint and you’re going to catch me. Three, two...” She fell forwards into Castiel’s arms and he lowered her to the floor. Her hand slid unseen under his shirt and he felt his skin burning over his ribs. She withdrew her hand as half a dozen guards entered.

“Arrest him.” The leading one said.

“No, no, I’m perfectly fine” Ambriel said, getting to her feet. “I must have had too many people buzzing around my head, it happens. You’re all dismissed.” She made a shoo-ing gesture and they left without a word.

“What did you do?” Castiel asked, fighting the urge to check his skin.

“I gave you a fraction of my abilities, don’t abuse them. I apologise for the scar, if you’re ever released I’ll personally see that you’re healed. You better be going, dismissed.”

Castiel flexed his wings before pausing. “Why are you helping me?”

“I hear all of Dean’s prayers, how could I not help?” She gave him one last smile and nod of dismissal before he left.

Castiel landed silently in Bobby’s kitchen. Dean was alone at the desk, pouring over a book and although Crowley was gone, Castiel could smell his lingering presence there. He may already be too late.

-x-

Castiel paced back and forth, battling the urge to put Dean under there and then and plead with him not to make the same mistake that he had. But he couldn’t, Dean was already suspicious and the consequences of being revealed had been made very clear to Castiel, a lot more than burnt eyes and shattered mirrors was at stake. There was nothing he could do until dark, so he watched and waited, anger and fear seething below his skin.

Dean, however, was the perfect picture of calm and determination. He had cleared Bobby’s desk and taken all the phones off their hooks, focusing all of his attention to the bowl and piece of paper he was holding. Had Castiel not been more worried about the revelation he’d been given, he might have noticed the familiarity of the herbs Dean was mixing and the Enochian words he was whispering, he might have tried to stop him. It wasn’t until the light glinted off the silver blade for the barest of seconds that Castiel finally realised what he was doing.

Dean hissed as he drew the blade across his palm, despite the many times he’d done it before. Castiel watched transfixed for a second by the tiniest look of pain on Dean’s face as the blood dripped into the bowl.

“To the Angel Castiel, I summon your ass down here...right now!” Dean shouted up at the ceiling, trying to drown out the uncertainty that flickered through his voice with volume.

Castiel held his breath for a second. Everything he knew about Enochian magic told him it wouldn’t work but he felt something pulling at every molecule of his being, almost painfully dragging him towards Dean. He exhaled and the pain went away, not realising that it had very little to do with the spell itself. A human would have said it was anticipation and nervousness, guilt and longing, love and fear all fighting to be the dominant emotion. But an Angel would have said they weren’t capable of any emotion, let alone all of that.

“Damn it!” Dean threw the bowl at the wall across from him and then stared at its shattered pieces in defiance. Without really thinking clearly, he picked up one of Bobby’s many phones and started pressing buttons, recalling the number from memory.

“Hello?” Sam’s voice answered warily.

“Why wouldn’t an Angel Summoning spell work?” Dean asked, desperation shining clearly through his question.

“Dean? Is that you? Are you alright?” Sam asked, worried by the impromptu phone call.

“I’m fine, just answer the question. Why wouldn’t it work?”

“Is this about Cas cause he’s gone Dean, you can’t summon someone who...”

“Don’t. There must be another reason, what could I have done wrong?” Dean tightened his grip on the phone.

“I don’t know. Angels aren’t really my strong point. Out of all of us, I’d have thought you’d know the most about them.”

“If you don’t know, ask Bobby.”

“Dean...”

“Just do it.” He snapped and waited through the sound of shuffling shoes and hurried half conversations.

“He says stop being an idjet before you hurt yourself.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake...” Dean sighed and considered hanging up.

“Wait. Now don’t take this the wrong way but between this and those dreams you told me about, maybe it’s just your way of coping with...” Sam’s voice was silenced by Dean slamming down the phone.

He knew he was being petty and probably within an hour he’d call him back and begrudgingly apologise to ease his conscience. It frustrated him that nobody else could see what he could see. To him it was blindingly obvious that Cas couldn’t _really_ be gone but nobody seemed to want to believe that. Except for Crowley but all their history suggested he shouldn’t be trusted. Yet he was the only one who appeared to trust him on this.

Dean sat down at the desk, his current line of thought making him uneasy.

“Cas, I know you’re there, somewhere at least. I know you’re not dead. Unless Crowley is lying to me, which let’s face it...”

Castiel studied Dean very hard and couldn’t see any reason why he’d be lying. The fact Crowley knew, or at least was saying he knew that he was alive, was troubling.

“But if you are alive, why won’t you come when I need you?” Dean stared down at the fresh cut on his hand. 

Cas looked away, ashamed that despite everything he’d done, his friend still wanted him there, even felt like he needed him but he couldn’t be there, not in the way that mattered.

-x-

Night fell after what felt like decades to Castiel and Dean went to bed of his own accord, much to Cas’ surprise.

He sat down on the bed and addressed the ceiling.

“Right, this hasn’t failed me yet. Come on, I’ll wait as long as it takes.” He pulled his shirt off and led back on the bed and stared at the ceiling like Cas would just decide to fall from it.

Castiel stood over him, itching to give in to Dean’s request. The irony is that by his asking for it, Castiel was wary to act, knowing that it’d be seen as proof in Dean’s eyes if he just magically fell asleep and started dreaming of him.

So again, Cas waited. He could have influenced his mind to feel tired or stood there singing angelic lullabies into his subconscious but instead he let Dean fall asleep naturally. When he did, Castiel felt energy crackle inside him, burning the skin that Ambriel had touched. He still wasn’t as powerful as he used to be but it was something.

His eyes flickered over Dean’s torso, pausing on the damaged skin where his hand had pulled him out of hell. The first time he’d touched him. The mark was a portent of their destiny, as warrior and guardian more than a side effect of any physical contact but his fingers reached for it nonetheless. He placed his hand over the scar and entered Dean’s mind with the gentlest of touches.

There was a faint ripple in the air but nothing surrounding him changed, he was still leaning over Dean and his hand still covered the handprint. He took a few seconds to register that under the benefits of his upgrade, the world no longer collapsed around him any time he touched Dean. He removed it as slowly as he could, so not to alert Dean that it had been there in the first place.

“Finally.” Dean’s eyes snapped open. “I’ve been dreaming of vampires discussing the pros and cons of Twilight!” Dean shook his head at himself.

“And their decision?” Castiel inquired, mildly curious to how Dean’s mind worked when he wasn’t there.

“They don’t like it.” he answered as if stating the obvious.

“No, I imagine not.”

“Look at that, a pop culture reference you get, we should frame it.”

“I fail to see how you could have a verbal exchange framed. Unless you wrote it down.”

“And we’re back to normal.” Dean sat up against the headboard and gestured towards the end of the bed. “Sit down, we need to talk.”

“I agree.” Castiel nodded and perched on the end of the bed. “You can’t work with Crowley.”

“That actually brings me onto my point. You need to stop being a dick and get your ass, your real ass that is, down here and help us. We’re having a bit of an emergency, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“The Leviathans haven’t made a move against Earth yet, it is not important. You can’t trust him.”

“And when will it be important? When they’ve killed us all? Or when they start up at your door?”

“Whatever Crowley told you was probably a lie. You cannot place your loyalty in that demon or any other.”

“You did.”

“And I suffered greatly because of it. Learn from my mistakes.” Castiel pleaded.

“Yes, well, you’re not exactly here to help, are you? And now I know it’s not just my imagination, I can feel you hanging around and Crowley can smell you, for God’s sake! But you still don’t come when I ask you to. There’s got to be a reason for that and if you say you’re not real, so help me God I will turn this dream around!”

Castiel stared at him, stunned by the outburst and not entirely understanding half out of it.

“You’re real. I can just feel it, okay? So drop the act.” Dean clarified.

“What makes you so sure?” Castiel sighed; this was a battle he was losing.

“These aren’t the first dreams you’ve guest starred in and yet recently you’ve been so much like yourself, the annoying old you, that it’s starting to stop being fun. Not to mention any time I touch you, you magically disappear.” Dean’s cheeks turned an unusual shade of pink and Cas didn’t ask the nature of the previous dreams as they obviously embarrassed him.

“Would it reassure you if I were to touch you?” He asked instead, fairly confident in his new found talent.

“Would it be weak to say it would?”

“No, if it’s worrying you that much.” Castiel leant over and keeping eye contact with Dean, brushed a hand over his collarbone for the shortest of seconds.

“That’s not what I meant.” He said, still holding Cas’ eyes and exhaling shakily. “If this wasn’t real, would it be hurting us this much?”

“I don’t know, I don’t feel as humans do.” Castiel shrugged uneasily.

“Be honest with yourself.”

“This is the best I can do, if there was something more...” His promise was cut off by lips on his and a hand on the back of his head. The kiss lingered for a few seconds and when Cas did nothing to break it Dean sighed and backed off.

“It’s a dream. The Cas I knew would have flailed like a mad squid if I kissed him. Or if anyone kissed him, for that matter.”

“Maybe the Castiel you knew has changed.” He muttered mirroring Dean’s kiss until neither one of them cared what was real and what wasn’t.

 

-x-

Castiel woke with a start. It wasn’t often Angels fell asleep and it gave him a sharp feeling of vulnerability. He took a moment to remember how he’d ended up in Dean’s now empty bed and felt his stomach clench slightly.

While it was true Dean’s dreams and Castiel’s part in them had taken a rather unusual turn, it was perfectly understandable. Dean was grieving, even if he couldn’t admit to it and that made him want to cling onto whatever or whomever he could. Adding that to the near constant human need for intimacy and sexual gratification, Castiel was surprised something like this hadn’t happened sooner.

What he couldn’t understand or explain away was himself and his own actions. He couldn’t think up a chemical reaction that had prompted him to kiss his friend. He couldn’t think of a logical reason for why he’d ran his fingers through his hair and bit gently on his lip, forcing the kiss deeper. He certainly couldn’t explain the butterflies clawing to get out of him at the mere memory of it.

Despite its mostly innocent nature, last night had broken some very real boundaries for him. It was only the second time he’d kissed someone like that and this time he couldn’t cast it aside as a side effect of impending doom. He had done it because he had wanted to and oddly, it had seemed like the only possible thing he could have done. The fact that his first kiss had been tarnished with the taste of evil and soullessness, making Dean taste pure as driven snow, probably hadn’t helped either.

He stood and straightened his clothes, barely making a difference and took off down the stairs at what anyone else would have called an impossible pace. When he got to the kitchen he stopped abruptly because Dean appeared to be assaulting a frying pan with eggs in a manner only he could describe as _cooking_.

He longed to speak or do something to affirm his presence in the room but was caught off guard when he remembered that in Dean’s eyes he wasn’t even there.

-x-

Dean’s morning had been a good one, he’d gotten up with a new spring in his step, he’d made himself breakfast and he’d been helpfully informed by Sam that they’d return tomorrow, so he could call off any nefarious activities he’d had planned. 

He’d also spent a long time lying on Bobby’s sofa thinking about all the possible new dreams he could make up between now and bedtime. Little did he know across the room from him, Castiel had to dig his nails into the cabinet ledge he was leaned against until his knuckles were white with the effort to keep himself from throwing himself at Dean’s mercy.

He was pretty sure this was planned as some new form of exquisite torture on Dean’s part. Every so often he would smile to himself knowingly, like he could feel Cas’ frustration from across the room.

A voice joined the graphic images in his head for the barest of seconds. He was being summoned and while he knew answering was inevitable he paused for a few seconds, curious to what use Dean was going to put his imaginary tie to. His own hands reached up to loosen its very real counterpart before he relented and left Dean to it.

-x-

“Ambriel?” Castiel prompted, politeness taking a back seat to his barely suppressed urge to get back to Dean as soon as viably possible. She returned the favour by remaining sprawled on her chaise longue.

“Castiel. How are things progressing?” She raised an eyebrow suggestively and colour rushed into his cheeks. Of course she could see everything, hear every secret word whispered and even his deepest thoughts were not out of her reach. 

“Well.” He answered carefully.

“Oh yes?”

“He won’t be working with Crowley any time soon.”

 

“And how can you be sure of this?” She asked perfectly innocently but the smile creeping onto her lips gave her away.

“Because I have serious reason to believe he is going to be spending the rest of his life thinking of every way imaginable to turn this vessel into a quivering mess and me along with it. But you already know all this.” Castiel said, like he was informing her it was raining.

“Of course I do, you lucky boy!” Her smile broke out in full and Castiel couldn’t help but smile too, for an Angel she was strangely agreeable.

“How long have you known?”

“Since the day you packed your bags and marched down to Hell to rescue him. How long have you?”

“About eight hours...or maybe years, I can’t really tell anymore.” Castiel sighed, looking back on why he’d sacrificed so much for a cause no other Angel had understood.

“The best way to be.” She said, dismissing him with a nod.

-x-

When he returned, he could feel the demon in the room, presumably concealing himself as Dean appeared to have not moved a muscle since he left.

He did not stay hidden for long though. In fact, it seemed he’d been waiting for Castiel’s return.

“Well, you look like you’re thinking about something very hard. I hope it’s what we talked about yesterday.”

Dean jumped and tried to recover himself in a mildly dignified manner. “Get out.”

“My, my. Did I interrupt some alone time? Of course I did, he’s even starting to smell like you; humanity and desperation.”

“That won’t work this time. I’m not interested in whatever pet theories you have, so you can shove them.” Dean stood, trying to remember the nearest salt store to him. “Cas might have felt like he had nobody else but a piece of scum like you to turn but I know different.”

“Trust me, without me it’s going to end in tears just as surely as it will with me so swallow your pride, and Castiel’s too if needs be, and be a nice compliant boy scout. Believe it or not, sweetheart, but I am trying to help you.”

“And I’ve told you what you can do with it.”

“Fine, destroy your pathetic world, see if I care! But don’t come crying to me when it’s all gone tits up and you’re stuck being one of my playthings for the rest of eternity.” Crowley sneered and left, blinking out of existence quicker than Dean’s brain could register.

“Fuck.” He swore to himself, echoing Castiel’s thoughts exactly.

Though he couldn’t help being proud of Dean, he’d shown more strength than he had. However he knew Crowley all too well and he wouldn’t put it past him to defect to the other side just because Dean had hurt his feelings. 

-x-

“Well, that went brilliantly.” Dean said to himself, absentmindedly picking up a glass and Bobby’s nearest bottle of scotch. 

He took a sip and observed the burn in his throat, he hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic in days and he hadn’t even noticed.

“Cas, I need to talk to you.” He waited a few minutes, looking around him before rolling his eyes. “Fine, put me under then, I really don’t care anymore just...do something.”

Castiel walked up to him, until he was only centimetres away. If he did this now, there’d be no denying his presence, no going back. He really shouldn’t do it but somewhere deep under Dean’s angry exterior, he was pleading for help and Cas couldn’t ignore that.

He closed his eyes and shut down Dean’s conscious mind, catching him before he hit the ground.

“I knew it.” Dean muttered, straightening up but not entirely leaving Castiel’s grasp. 

“It’s not as simple as you think it is.” He sighed, knowing he’d have to take him through the finer details of what was and wasn’t in his powers to do.

“I don’t care.”

“This is still just a dream, I can’t...there’s nothing I can do.”

“There is something you can do.” Dean shifted his weight, pushing Cas until his back hit the fridge. The predatory look in his eyes that would have been scary in any other situation, successfully made all the air desert his lungs.

“I don’t understand, I thought you wanted to talk?” He asked, making a token effort to appear less comfortable having Dean pressing against him than he actually was.

“And we will talk. Later.” Dean gripped a fistful of Cas’ coat, trying not to think that the real one was sitting in his bag, empty and unused.

Castiel’s heart raced as he was half dragged up the stairs by his coat and to a greater extent by Dean. He couldn’t forget the danger they were in and his helplessness against it, which strangely made him want this more. He stopped abruptly, turning Dean to face him and kissing him before he could complain about nearly falling down the stairs.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re finally in agreement.” Dean said when Cas let him go.

“I never explicitly said I wasn’t.”

Dean took the rest of the stairs two at a time and practically ripped the door of his temporary bedroom off its hinges when he got to it. He pulled Cas through it and closed it behind them. He pushed the coat of Cas’ shoulders, letting it fall to the floor around their feet. Castiel struggled with his tie, never having had to remove it before, while Dean pulled his simple t-shirt off. He smiled and took Cas’ hands off the tie, easily pulling it loose and dropping it. Castiel took a few steps back until he could feel the bed behind him, letting Dean push him down onto it.

“Are you sure about this?” Dean asked, his mind catching up with his body.

“Entirely.” He laid back on the bed, waiting for Dean to overcome whatever thought process he was having. Knowing him, he was probably wondering what level of hell one gets sent to for deflowering an Angel. Truth was nobody up there really cared.

He smiled when Dean joined him, crawling over him until they were level, Dean propped up on one elbow and Cas staring unblinkingly up at him. He watched as Dean undid each shirt button one at a time, with far more patience than he usually showed. He slid his hands under it, forcing it open, pausing when he saw the scarred skin over his ribcage.

“That’s new.” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“How do you know?” Cas smiled, wondering exactly how much of him Dean had seen or thought he’d seen.

“Fair enough, it looks new, is it?”

“Yes. It’s a...side effect of me being able to do this.”

“So it’s because of me?” Dean asked, concerned.

“Only in the same way that this...” He placed his hand over Dean’s shoulder, his hand matching the burn exactly. “...is my fault.”

“You saved me from hell, it was worth it.”

“And so is this.” Cas’ hand found the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.

After a few minutes of trying to struggle out of trousers, they both lay naked, Dean trying to touch every bit of Cas’ skin while Cas tried to keep up with the million new sensations he was feeling, chemical and physical.

“I didn’t pack for this scenario.” Dean muttered into Cas’ neck, not entirely sure what he expected him to do about it. He shook his head, trying to claw back the ability to concentrate.

“It’s a dream, remember?” He managed to say, twisting his wrist slightly to make the nearest draw open apparently of its own accord.

Dean leant over and looked in the drawer, pulling out lube amongst other things.

“I’m not sure these are going to help.” Dean held up a rosary chain.

“My apologies, I could barely focus considering...”

“I don’t think I want to know what you were considering to make these materialise.” He dropped them back in the drawer and closed it, not admitting he _really_ did want to know what he’d been thinking.

He left the lube on the bed, returning to Cas and kissing his way down his neck, the knowledge that he was able to completely distract an Angel making him want to tease him just that little bit more than he would have. He ghosted over his collarbone, one hand trailing over his chest, feeling each muscle clench in turn until he reached his cock.

Dean shifted so he was kneeling, nudging Cas’ legs apart so he could be between them. Castiel watched fascinated as Dean took the lube and smoothed it over his own cock, biting his lip with the effort not to get carried away. His dry hand rested on Cas’ hip, strategically placed should he buck. He gave him a long, questioning look before Cas returned it with a wide-eyed nod.

Dean inserted a finger inside him, trying to hold him still as he squirmed against it. He let Cas get used to it, crooking it every so often to bring little gasps to his lips. When he added another finger, Cas pushed back, getting the hang of how it worked. He scissored them for good measure, aware on some level that Castiel’s vessel had probably never done anything like this. 

“I’m sure that’s adequate.” Cas gasped, not sure he could cope with the slow teasing any longer.

Dean nodded and removed his fingers, smiling at the way Cas’ body rose up to keep the contact going for as long as possible. He pushed into Cas as slowly as possible, watching him tense, heat and tightness threatening to take him over the edge before he’d even begun.

When Cas appeared to relax slightly, he placed his hands on his thighs, lifting them and spreading them further apart. He pulled out and pushed back in, watching an unusual mixture of pain and pleasure fleet over Cas’ face making him pause to make sure he was alright. In return, he got a look that said _if you don’t fuck me, I will smite you_ , or at least that’s what Dean’s mind filled in for him. Castiel didn’t actually get the chance to say anything because Dean had picked up the pace, thrusting into him as hard as he dared.

He could feel sweat on Cas’ skin and hear the way he breathed in time with Dean moving inside him, every so often a keening noise getting caught in his throat. Dean curled his hand around his cock, balance knocked slightly off but he knew he didn’t have long left and he wanted to watch Cas come before he did. He ran his thumb over the head and tried to keep his strokes in time with his thrusts, failing miserably but Cas didn’t seem to notice. Dean watched astounded as he began to glow, at first thinking it was a trick of the light or possibly his own orgasm creeping up on him but eventually he couldn’t dismiss the light that seemed to be shining from Cas’ skin, out of every cell. Dean closed his eyes instinctively, throwing his head back as something dragged his orgasm from him, pushing the white light behind his eyelids and leaving him breathless. When he opened his eyes Castiel was laughing. He managed to pull out before collapsing on Cas.

“You coulda warned me about the light show.” He said, raising an eyebrow.

“Dean, _I_ didn’t even know about that. I suppose it must have been my Grace.” Cas said, still laughing slightly.

“What, you mean you’ve never...”

“Never had occasion.” 

“Dude, I find an occasion at least twice a week when the world’s not ending.” Dean looked up at him, wondering when the last time he’d seen Cas smile like that was. He almost didn’t want to remember the real world, so he buried his face in Cas’ chest waiting for the inevitable.

“Speaking of the world ending, there’re some things I think you should know.”

“Are these things I actually want to know.” 

“Probably not.” Cas stroked Dean’s hair and began his story.

-x-

When he’d finished updating Dean, he should have warned him how dangerous this knowledge was or tell him he couldn’t ever speak of it, or of him, to anyone. He should have told him how his whole existence on Earth and everything they had between them could all be torn down if Heaven so much as suspected the rules had been broken. And sleeping with your charge, even if it wasn’t entirely real, was very much breaking the rules. If they were found out it’d lose him his wings and quite possibly his life. It’d certainly be the end for them.

But as Dean led on his chest, body rising gently with every breath he took, eyes wide with a mixture of wonder and hope, he couldn’t bring himself to take this newfound happiness away from him. Lying naked and innocent, Castiel couldn’t believe Dean had it in him to do any wrong, ever again.

He should have told him, burned the need for discretion into his very soul until he couldn’t speak of it even if he wanted to. Damn human emotions.

-x-

Castiel woke to screaming in his head, he’d been dragged back to Heaven and his head was splitting with the noise.

When his mind and his vision cleared, he was pushed to his knees and held over the clear ceiling of Ambriel’s sanctuary. The very ceiling in which he’d been observed every time he’d been there, though of course it wasn’t a real ceiling, it was just what they wanted him to see.

She was wheeled in on a metal gurney, leather straps keeping her down and her red hair cascading over the side. The screaming in his head grew louder and he suspected that it was no coincidence that only he could hear it.

“What’s going on?”

“You abused your position. She enabled you and concealed the truth, she is being punished.”

“That is my crime. Punish me! Whatever she has confessed to, I deny it, my actions were my own and she had no part in them.”

“It was not her confession, it was yours.”

The ceiling bubbled like water and changed into an all too familiar room.

-x-

Dean rushed to the door when he saw the Impala pull up. He couldn’t contain himself. He had been right and they had been wrong. They hadn’t had the faith in Cas that he had. He couldn’t tell them everything of course, but he could tell them enough. He ran across the yard and yanked open the driver’s side door.

“Get out; we’ve got work to do.” Dean made a hurrying gesture before running back into the house.

“Dean, we’ve just got back from ‘work’, what’s the emergency?” Sam asked wearily, dropping his stuff by the door.

“We need to find a way to break Heaven’s grip on Cas.”

“We’ve been through this, if Cas is even alive...”

“He is.” Dean interrupted.

“If he is, he’s a big boy, he can look after himself.” Sam took in the several empty spirit bottles and lack of washing up. “A lot better than you can.”

“I’m not...that was before, when I wasn’t sure. Crowley confirmed it...”

“And you trust Crowley?” Bobby scowled coming through the door, getting a look from Sam that hinted he should let him deal with Dean.

“No. Yes. It doesn’t matter, it put me on Cas’ trail. Then when I couldn’t summon him, it hit me. What if he was already here, you can’t summon something that’s already here.”

“If he was here don’t you think we would have noticed?” Sam shook his head, regretting leaving his brother alone for a week.

“But he’s been trapped. They’ve made it so he can’t contact us properly, like with normal people. Apparently he can’t be trusted not to interfere with our destiny and all that crap.”

“And how do you know all this?” 

“He told me! They took his powers away and all he can do is watch and it’s killing him, I can tell.”

“I thought he couldn’t contact us?” 

“He can talk to me, sort of. He can get in my head, into my dreams, like before.”

“Dean, I told you, those dreams are just...”

“It’s not grief, God damn it! It’s real, he told me. There’s this woman, this Angel, Ambriel helping him. She can control stuff like that but she can’t free him, so we have to.”

“Dean, listen to yourself.” Bobby said from across the room, waiting for the argument to either settle down or for punches to be thrown.

“No, you listen to me. If it was you or me, then neither of us would sleep until the other was back, hell, we’ve done it enough times already. It shouldn’t be any different because it’s Cas.”

“It is different, neither of us developed a God complex and went on a power trip.”

“No, I just tortured people for decades in hell and you walked around soulless for God knows how long doing God know what, not to mention your little stint of depravity with that demon bitch and her bodily fluids. If we were worth saving, then we can damn well save him.”

“The last time we saw Castiel it wasn’t even him. I don’t think it’d be safe to believe anything he says, we don’t know if there even is a Castiel anymore.”

“No, the last time I saw him, he was sorry, he was begging me to forgive him and he swore he’d make amends. How many times have we done that to each other and swept all manner of shit under the rug? Now get on board with this or I will do it by myself.”

“Dean, don’t. This is stupid. Cas is gone and you’re way off the reservation right now. You need help.”

-x-

The room dissolved back into Ambriel’s and her screams echoing off the wall replacing Sam and Dean’s shouting.

Castiel felt the world falling away from him, this was all his fault. He’d been too weak, too human to give heed to the risks of sharing the secrets of Heaven with Dean. He’d needed him more than was healthy for any Angel to need a mortal and now it was all crashing down on top of him.

Ambriel would be killed, and more likely than not so would he. Dean would never see him again, never understand why he’d been left without a guardian, until one day he’d be killed in some stupid avoidable way all because Castiel couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Even if he wasn’t killed, he’d have to face all the demons, Heaven and Hell, war on earth, all by himself and that would destroy him.

A small part of him felt unexplainably glad about the fact that if his life was going to be taken, it had been because the hope and faith that Dean had placed in him, the happiness he just couldn’t keep to himself. If anything was to be his downfall, it was amazingly fitting it should be love and love of a human at that.

-x-

Dean woke up in the panic room, a dim memory of being knocked out by Bobby, who had obviously acted when Sam couldn’t, like he always did.

They thought he’d lost it, gone mad with grief but he reasoned that you couldn’t grieve someone you knew was alive.

He kicked at the door until the bones in his leg ached and he screamed until his voice gave out on him. Nobody came when he called, not even Cas.

-x-

They made him watch as they took a small silver blade to Ambriel’s chest, each cut letting out light. Her screams got louder and rawer as they cut deeper, peeling away at her flesh until her vessel’s body couldn’t take it and the life slipped out of it. The screams kept on in his head. They pulled the light out of her, casting it down to Earth, still screaming until she had fully fallen, her grace gone and her consciousness lost to the thousands of mortal souls out here praying for new life that had eluded them so far. 

“You’re next.”

An Angel Blade was pressed against his neck, emphasizing his fate.

-x-

Unknown to Dean, someone answered his call, even if he hadn’t been calling them.

Crowley didn’t show himself, his pride still bruised but he unlocked the door to Dean’s prison, letting him out.

“Let him come to me. Let him beg for me to rescue his Angel. Then we’ll see who needs who.” Crowley muttered to himself as he watched Dean run.

-x-

“Is this Sam Hudson?” A clinical voice asked through his cell phone.

“Yes?” Sam had learned, what with their many aliases, to answer yes to any name.

“We’re going to need you to come and collect your brother, he was brought into our ER earlier with some minor injuries and is insisting that he discharges himself.”

Sam rolled his eyes. He’d been expecting this call since Dean broke out about four hours ago. He was aware somewhere in the back of his head how grateful he was that they said _collect_ and not _identify_. He mumbled something about being on his way and scribbled down an address.

_Four Hours Earlier_

Dean made it through the door, a miracle seeing as how he was trying to run and be silent at the same time whilst not really succeeding at either. He thanked whatever luck he had that the Impala keys were on a table by the door, begging to be taken.

By the time Sam’s instincts had kicked in, the headlights were blaring through the window and the engine was roaring, leaving only dust by the time he’d gotten outside.

Once in the car, Dean told himself to relax. He tried to focus on the road through the chaos in his head. He was alone in this. Sam and Bobby were unwilling to listen to reason and something had to be keeping Cas away. His brain kicked in and reminded him of the Enochian that had been recently painted on the panic room walls. That was it; that was why he couldn’t come.

He couldn’t risk calling Cas now, it wouldn’t do him any good as he couldn’t sleep while at the wheel so he resolved to stop at the nearest motel. He’d risk being found but right now he needed Cas like he was an addiction.

-x-

Castiel was laying on a forest floor somewhere, breathing heavily. He ran through the last few moments in his head.

He’d pushed against the guard at his back, elbowing him somewhere undetermined but apparently painful. He caught the Angel blade as it was dropped. He had a choice between going for the guard and going for the door. If he gave into revenge, it could backfire and he’d be back where he started. He went for the door, vowing one day he’d make up for Ambriel’s loss.

He had to kill the two guards on the door to get past them. The blade slit one’s throat before he’d even felt it and then embedded itself in the other’s chest.

He ran through undetermined corridors, each one filler between different heavens that every person saw differently. Only Angels saw them for what they were, blank walls and endless doors. If you ran for long enough; heaven would eventually catch on and provide you with an exit door. Or so he was told by Anna. She was the only one to have gone through it and come back again. He sincerely hoped that she’d chosen to cut her own grace out and that it hadn’t been the price for leaving.

A few Angels, three he knew by sight and another he didn’t recognize emerged from a door. It took them less than a second to register the blood that covered him, and the fact that he was running made him automatically guilty.

They all pulled him down to the ground, each holding a limb while he kicked and screamed. They’d not been quick enough to take the blade and it inevitably, in his struggle, found its home in the heart of one of the Angels. The light blinded everyone for a second and Castiel recovered quickly having seen it more times than a good Angel should. 

He didn’t want to kill the other three. Doing so made him feel like he’d not learned anything from the last few months but Dean’s voice whispered inside his head about self-preservation. He knew it wasn’t real but everything was made easier by pretending he was doing it for Dean.

When the last light went out, he took off at a run again, his thoughts screaming for a way out. When his legs felt like they were on fire and he was a few more steps away from giving in and letting them win, a door presented itself.

It was an Earth fire exit, for all the difference it made to him. He pushed the bar and it flung open, presenting him with cold air, strong wind and a long fall, which was hopefully just a physical one.

He took one final look back, one last look at the blood on his hands before he ripped open his shirt, his decision made.

The Angel blade was too big for its task, making his work clumsy when it needed to be precise. He was all too aware that any second an army could come through any door. But he had to do it, should jumping leave him defenceless, or even if it didn’t change him at all, he knew hiding was his only option and there was only one way to hide from heaven and only one weapon that could cut into his skin, providing him protection.

He traced the symbol over the faint scars that left from the last time he’d done something like this. They only differed slightly and by the time he’d finished, he was covered in so much blood, he couldn’t really see skin anymore.

He dropped the blade at his feet and closed his eyes. He reasoned that if this did take away his grace, he’d probably never hit the ground. He’d have to go through what Anna did and pray that in twenty years he’d remember who he was, who Dean was and hope that he’d survived long enough to forgive him for leaving. If he didn’t jump, he’d never live long enough to find out either way.

He exhaled and leaned through the door letting gravity pull him into a swan dive, his wings unfolding, stretching out and beating against the wind until he could control his fall and turn it into flight.

He landed heavily on the ground, falling onto his back and breathing heavily. He was alive. He was solid. He felt more real than he had since his possessed body had succumbed to water.

-x-

Dean checked into the nearest hotel, not even checking its name or price. The girl at the counter looked at him curiously when he requested the hourly rate. They probably didn’t get many people asking that who weren’t accompanied by the local ‘talent’. He took the key and practically ran to the room, locking the door behind him. He pressed his back against the wood, closed his eyes and prayed.

“Castiel. Me and Sam are having a little...difference of opinion and...I need you. Ok?”

_Castiel could feel Dean tugging at him, pulling him away from the green and blue of the trees and the sky and the sweet, clean oxygen that his vessel craved. It was replaced with the dark shade of the motel and the smell of stale smoke and sex. He held himself back, ignoring the call. If heaven couldn’t come after him directly, they’d surely have put his one weakness under observation. Whatever Dean needed him for, if it was life or death, someone up there would intervene. He had to leave him, for now. ___

Dean opened one eye hopefully before opening both, disappointed.

“Come on, Cas!”

-x-

Castiel eventually dragged himself off the forest floor, dusting himself down in a rather futile effort to get off some of the blood and dirt.

He could still feel Dean pulling at him, like a child pulling on its mother’s sleeve but he couldn’t go to him. He couldn’t risk him being used as a pawn in this unprompted battle. Castiel rubbed his eyes with one hand; he’d thought he was done with this sort of thing. He’d spent months lying to and avoiding Dean for ‘his own safety’ or more accurately out of shame, he didn’t want to put either of them through that again. And this time, he wasn’t even sure what he’d done wrong. Was it wrong to love a human? As a child, sat at his brothers’ feet, he’d been taught that love was the strongest power in the universe and that their father wished them to love humans above all else, so how could it be wrong?

He’d known other Angels to have taken lovers before, special people who were capable of seeing them, believing in them. Dean wasn’t really either of those, he’d not been able to hear Cas’ real voice any more than any other human and it had taken a great deal of convincing before he had accepted what he was but heaven couldn’t deny he was special and for a good reason too.

His vessel was tired, an occurrence that was usually easily ignored but Cas suspected he was tired too. Tired in that way that drove people to do something stupid or give up entirely. Dean’s sentiment about Angels being dicks echoed in his mind and he found himself agreeing. Was he even one of them anymore, he’d rebelled and broken ranks so many times. Every time, sooner or later his allegiance fell with Dean over heaven. Why didn’t they just leave him be?

Castiel sighed and extended his wings, not going to Dean like he wanted to, instead seeking out his brother and his best friend.

-x-

Dean paced the small room, waiting for some hint that Castiel was around. He tried sleeping on the bed, a tactic that had worked for him before.

After an hour he gave up, flinging open the door and getting back into the Impala. His fingers tapped on the steering wheel and his mind started racing. Cas had promised he would always come when Dean needed him, yet he hadn’t shown his face all day. Something had to be keeping him, Dean reasoned. Perhaps heaven had found out he was abusing his powers and were keeping him prisoner, stopping him coming back.

He remembered all the fuss they’d made over him back when he was a potential vessel, did he still matter that much to them?

-x-

Cas dropped in on Sam and Bobby, noticing it took a lot more of his power to make sure he was cloaked, something he’d also felt in the woods. He felt unnervingly more real, like heaven was losing its grip on him.

He watched the two of them for a few minutes, catching up on what he’d missed through their strained conversation. He gathered they’d locked Dean up for whatever reason, a practice they often jumped to and that he had escaped. Sam was concerned for his mental state and Bobby was concerned about how he’d escaped.

At first Castiel’s thoughts ran parallel to Bobby’s but then he remembered the desperation that had clung to him when Dean had called out to him.

“Damn it.” Cas muttered to himself, a habit he’d no doubt picked up from Dean.

-x-

Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter, not entirely sure he’d thought this through. His theory was that if he put himself in mortal danger, whoever it was up there would have to take their attention off of Cas long enough for him to escape or Cas would have to reveal himself, despite whatever reason he had for not doing so already.

He could readily admit it was a stupid plan but it was the only one he had and the roar of the car’s engine seemed to be urging him on.

When Castiel materialised into the backseat, he didn’t even feel it, just as he hadn’t felt it when Crowley had done the same.

“Crowley.” Castiel glared, resisting the need to punch him.

“Angelcakes.” Crowley smiled a little too brightly. “Nice to see your lesser than God self.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, although he had a good idea.

“Let’s call it a social experiment, shall we?”

“Or you could cut the crap and tell me what you’re really doing.”

“Ooh, you’re even starting to sound like him. How cute.”

“Crowley.” Cas said as a warning. His patience for the demon has vastly lessened.

“Alright, calm down. This car is going to crash, that much is obvious. Then it’s one of those ‘choose your own endings.’ You can either sit here, like you are and we’ll watch as the prodigal righteous man kills himself in some entertaining way, trying to get your attention. Or you can play white knight or whatever other fantasy tickles you, surrendering yourself to whomever it is you’ve royally pissed off upstairs. What do you think?”

“How do you know about that?”

“King of Hell.” 

“And why are you doing this? What do you stand to gain?”

“I have my finger in a few pies and the pie makers don’t exactly like you. Or him, for bonus points.” 

“Leviathan?” Castiel said with distaste.

Crowley grabbed Castiel by the tie and looked him up and down, his temper getting the better of him. “You were the one that betrayed me, remember?”

Dean was vaguely aware of his faith in his plan wavering. He didn’t know that was because his strings were being pulled and the puppet master’s attention had been distracted. He slammed on the brakes, making the car skid but not soon enough.

“Oh, fucking hell! Now look what you’ve done!” Crowley let go of Cas’ tie and waved a hand, freezing time for a moment, just as the car was about to hit a tree at 60mph.

“Look what I’ve done?” Cas repeated incredulously, before swinging for Crowley, who ducked just in time.

“Now, now, focus. Car crashes, bye bye Dean. You save him, bye bye Cas.” He could see Cas’ eyes dart to Dean, a few seconds away from death and then back to the demon. Either way he was screwed and at least one way he wouldn’t have to watch. Crowley could see him weaken. “Go on, I’d love to see them lot pull off your wings like the powerless butterfly you are. 3, 2...”

Crowley waved his hand and time started up again. Crowley disappeared like he’d never been there and Castiel automatically wrapped his arms around Dean and the seat, keeping him steady and absorbing the shock himself. The only sign of a crash would be the few cuts and scrapes the errant glass left on his skin as the windscreen smashed.

Dean, barely conscious, felt Cas’ arms leave him as Cas got out of the car. He saw through blurred vision as light came down, enveloped him and snatched him away. Then darkness won out and he woke up in the ER.

-x-

Sam got in Bobby’s truck and gunned it to the ER. Mostly for the fear that his brother, if left alone long enough, would do something stupid _again_. 

When he arrived Dean was waiting at the reception, seemingly having an argument with the nurse running it.

“Finally!” Dean said as he spotted Sam. “What took you?”

“Excuse me, Sir, can I have a word?” The nurse asked with a pointed look. It took all his self control not to roll his eyes at Dean and ask him which nurse was filing a sexual harassment complaint this time.

The nurse gave him the details of what had happened (the word miraculous was used more than once), noted that there were no drugs or alcohol in his system and that she suggested counselling. Sam thanked her and signed the sheet saying he took responsibly for his brother.

“What were you trying to do? Aside from getting yourself killed.” Sam muttered under his breath as soon as they were out of earshot.

“That doesn’t matter. Cas saved me.” Dean said, smile plastered on his face.

“Not this again.” This time Sam did roll his eyes.

“Ok then, how do you explain me going one on one with a tree at over 50 and me coming out the winner?”

“I admit it seems like a miracle but still...”

Dean interrupted him. “That’s exactly what it was. Now we’ve got to pull the same thing for Cas.”

-x-

Castiel could feel that his hands were bound, probably by magic as there were very little tactile things that could hold an Angel. He could also feel a bit of cloth choking him which meant he was gagged and when he tried to open his eyes, he quickly learnt he was blindfolded too.

He could feel cold metal under his skin, he was naked on a gurney, just like Ambriel had been. He wasn’t surprised. This was the punishment they’d had lined up for him before he broke out, why would they change it.

He coughed against the gag, not really hoping to achieve much, more because it was uncomfortable. However, someone had noticed because the blindfold was tweaked at one side, to check if he was conscious.

“He’s awake.” A male voice called out, away from him, to someone else in the room.

“Good.” He heard in the background, the voice familiar but too distant to recognize.

-x-

“It was like that bit in Ghost...”

“Ghost?” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Patrick Swayze.” 

“Right.”

“Anyway. You know the bit where someone bad dies and the shadows come to take them away? It was like that but with light.” Dean pointed, wordlessly telling him to turn left.

“Ok, so say I believe it was Castiel. Don’t start just...say I do believe it, how are we meant to get him back? And why was he taken?”

“I don’t know but we can’t leave him...wherever the hell he is. Stop here.”

Sam parked the car and got out, following Dean.

“Now you tell me how _anyone_ could survive that?” He pointed at the wreckage that used to be his Baby. Had he not been so worried about Cas, he probably would have broken down in tears at the state she was in.

“Ok...that’s pretty...wow. How did you survive that? She looks like an accordion.”

“Don’t.” Dean warned.

“I think we need to get Bobby.”

“Yeah. I also have a slightly out of nowhere idea.”

-x-

A hand trailed over his chest, up his neck until it got to the blindfold, pulling it free.

Castiel’s eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the light and when they did, he almost wished they hadn’t. He shouted through the gag, fruitlessly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’m an amazing actress, aren’t I? Sadly the encore we’re about to perform is the real deal.” Ambriel said, her hand still trailing over his skin.

Castiel shouted against his gag again and this time she pulled it free.

“What was that?”

“Bitch!” He shouted, arching against the magic straps that held him in place.

“Doesn’t God cry when Angels curse? Or is that when they start fucking the filthy humans?”

“Heretic.” He spat up at her but she barely blinked, wiping her face and sighing like he was a child misbehaving.

“Oh honey, God made me just like he made you. Only we weren’t such unthinking, obedient little toy soldiers.” She leant down and kissed his cheek, watching him squirm away from her.

“Leviathan.” 

“Clever boy.”

-x-

“No.” Bobby and Sam said in unison.

“He’s our only choice. We don’t have any more Angels in our pocket.” Dean said, leafing through their father’s journal for the summoning spell.

“No, Castiel killed them.” Bobby said sarcastically.

“That’s not the point.” Sam interjected. “This is Crowley we’re talking about. Last time he had anything to do with Cas, he was trying to sell him up the river.”

“We’ll trap him.”

“Like that will work.” Bobby said, taking the journal off Dean.

“Last time I saw him, he was trying to help. I think he wants Cas back as much as the rest of us.”

“Oh yeah, cause those two were best friends.” Bobby said, again sarcastically.

“They spent a year trying to get into purgatory together, who knows what we don’t know.” Sam shrugged.

“Don’t even go there.” Dean warned, the very idea making his stomach clench with jealousy but he couldn’t admit to that.

“Fine but if this goes wrong, it’s on your shoulders.” Bobby handed him the journal back.

-x-

“And thanks to you, we’re not the only ones anymore. You freed up half a dozen bodies, just asking to be repossessed.”

Castiel’s mind flashed back to all the Angels he’d killed earlier.

“You planned this.”

“No, I just had someone stick a knife in me because I enjoy light shows. I was lucky, before I killed this bitch, she told me exactly how to do it, how to make it look real.”

“I will kill you.” Castiel tried fighting his bonds again.

“And this.” She splayed her small hand on his chest, matching the handprint. “She told me how to do this. You thought I’d made you stronger but I didn’t. I was making you weaker, binding all your glowy stuff to the meat you walk around in. It made you so human, you fell in love. I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.”

“No!”

“Oh, come on, you must know by now, Angels don’t have feelings.”She taunted.

-x-

They painted a Devil’s Trap on the kitchen floor, just in case. Summoning him was easy enough, they’d done it before. To their amazement, he didn’t look surprised to be there.

“Finally. I thought I’d be waiting all day for you apes to grow some common sense.” He made a show of sitting down at Bobby’s desk. Dean was the only one to follow him into the study.

“So you know?” Dean asked.

“Of course I know.” _I engineered it_ he left unspoken.

“Are you going to help?”

“Do I ever come here for the dazzling social benefits?”

“Drop the sarcasm, are you going to help or not?” 

“There’s not much I can do. We can all pray that he pulls a Judy Garland and says ‘There’s no place like home.’ and he’ll just turn up. Or I could always send you up there, to be his white knight and kiss it all better.” Crowley winked, enjoying the shade of red that Dean was turning.

“Keep your voice down.” He threatened.

“Sorry, do they not know you and Cas have gotten a bit more personal than Angels and their wards are meant to get? I’m surprised he didn’t fall there and then, the things you’ve been thinking about him.” Crowley said in a stage whisper.

Dean resisted the urge to chuck the nearby bottle of Holy Water over him, reminding himself that they needed his help.

“There is a third option.” Crowley said, one eyebrow arched.

-x-

“Do you know they don’t even think you survived that dip in the lake.” Ambriel whispered in his ear. “Everything that’s happened to you since has been me. I made you think you couldn’t show yourself to him and then I made you think you could; you two were some of the best toys I’ve ever played with. It’s a shame you had to make him blab so soon.”

She brought an Angel blade up to eye level, letting the light bounce off of it.

-x-

“What is it?” Dean asked cynically.

“We take all that glowy Angelness and bind it to his trench coat, so to speak.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ok, I’ll say it simply and...boring. When Angels take a vessel, they are _slightly_ binded to that body. Only so far as they can control it, fly in it et cetera. His vessel died. But I, and you, happen to know that he’s taken it back. We could summon the vessel here, no matter what they are doing to it, seeing as he’d not really _that_ bound to it. Leaving Glowy-Cas in the capable hands that are holding him prisoner, we then do this handy spell.” He pulled out some ancient looking parchment. “and bind him to his vessel forever, making it so that they can never get at him again, he’ be back to his usual corporeal self and you can shag him until judgement day. Everybody’s a winner.”

“But it’d make him mortal? I can’t do that to him, I can’t make that choice for him.” Dean shook his head.

“Would you like me to tell you what they’re doing to him?”

“You know?”

“King of Hell. I’m practically an Angel myself these days. Right this second, your Juliet is tied to one of those mortuary trays, gagged and blindfolded and a fiery redhead has designs on ripping his grace out and chucking it back down here. You remember how that works? Little Anna, she was what, mid-twenties before she got hers back and that was only through luck. Do you really want to lose Cas like that?”

“What do we need?”

-x-

She trailed the blade across his skin, teasing but not cutting.

“Do you think I’ll still get a pair of burnt wings once your grace has gone?”

She smiled and made a shallow cut where his vessel’s heart was. She ran her hand through the small white light that flowed out of it, watching the shadows she cast. She made another cut a few centimetres to the left and repeated the motion, casting shadows with her hand.

He wished he had his gag still in, so that he could muffle his own screams, the noise as painful to his ears at the cuts were to his skin.

The third time she stuck the knife in properly, carving through flesh until light was pouring out of him. The light blinded him and he was aware on some level of his body falling away from him. It had probably died, he thought to himself, beneath the screams he was still trying to make.

“That wasn’t meant to happen.” Ambriel muttered to herself, as Castiel’s vessel disappeared from the table.

-x-

“Cas!” Dean shouted as the naked vessel of the Angel materialised on the floor ten feet from him.

“Don’t move, don’t speak. That’s not the important bit remember?” Crowley chastised, holding Dean’s arm over a bowl, watching blood drip.

-x-

Ambriel let what was left of Castiel, the important bit, curl itself around her fingers, seeking out a new vessel.

She made a hole in the floor and threw it down as hard as she could, hoping it would still work.

-x-

“Did it work?” Dean asked impatiently, his first instinct was to run over to Castiel, who had blood pouring from his chest.

“Give it a second.” Crowley said just as impatiently.

Their question was answered when a bright white light came out of nowhere, engulfing Castiel until Dean had to close his eyes. A blur of red and yellow played out over his eyelids before fading. When he opened his eyes, his vision was spotting but he could see Castiel, still there on the floor.

“Now you can go play Nurse Ratched.” Crowley said, closing the doors to the kitchen with a quick nod to Sam and Bobby who were still waiting there.

When Dean got over to him, he could see all of his wounds had healed, including scars that he claimed never would. There was also the shadow outline of wings surrounding him, denoting an Angel’s death. Did it take all of Cas with it?

He crouched down and checked for a pulse, breathing an audible sigh of relief when he found one.

“I think you two need a moment. I’ll fetch the poor lamb some clothes.” Crowley disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Dean turned his attention back to Cas, sitting so he could lift his head onto his lap.

“Am I dead?” Castiel said, voice rough and strained from his earlier screaming.

“If you are, I want my money, and my blood, back.”

“Dean?” Cas tried to lift his head but Dean stopped him.

“I’m sorry, Cas.” Dean said, wanting to confess before those heartbreakingly blue eyes could meet his own.

“Why?”

“You’re not an Angel anymore and that’s my fault.” Dean stroked his hair, trying to soften the blow.

“I know, I can feel it. But I haven’t been an Angel in a long time, not really, not since I chose you over them.”

“I know but...”

“Its fine, Dean, really.” Cas managed to break his hold and look up at him, an honest smile on his face. It was fine. It had been for a while.

Dean would have argued further, feeling a never-ending need to apologise but Crowley appeared as quickly as he’d disappeared, holding a pile of clothes. “Let’s give him some privacy.” He suggested, steering Dean out into the kitchen.

“Well?” Sam asked.

“He’s back.”

“Is he happy about it?” Bobby asked, nodding towards the door.

“He says he is. I don’t think he could lie about it.”

“Does anyone want my opinion?” Crowley asked from the corner.

“No.” Bobby said, glaring. He still wasn’t happy they’d taken advice from a demon. _Again_.

“Fair enough, I’ll just hop along before you try and chuck me in that.” He pointed at the Devi’s trap. “Be seeing you.” He winked and disappeared.

A few seconds later Castiel emerged from the study and Dean’s breath caught in his throat. Dressed in his jeans and a t-shirt, he gave Dean a sense of Déjà Vu and not a pleasant one either. He’d only ever seen Cas dressed like that once before and technically it hadn’t happened yet. Nor should it, they’d defeated Lucifer and knocked that future off its axis. That version of 2014 should never happen now, but there in front of him was a mortal Castiel, foreshadowing what became of him in the future. A nightmare that haunted Dean.

“We need to talk. I think we’re going to have more trouble on our hands.” Castiel said, taking a seat, not noticing the way Dean’s eyes followed him.

“What do you know?” Sam asked, sitting down as well.

Castiel related back everything Ambriel had told him, nodding when Dean backed this up with what Crowley had told him.

“I think Crowley planned this. He knew the Leviathan were using me, he didn’t want this getting out so he ‘saved’ me, making sure my connection to heaven was lost forever, so I couldn’t warn them. Even separated, there was a risk, my grace could have been found but like this...I’m human.”

“I’m sorry.” Dean said again, guilt stabbing at him.

Castiel got up from the table and went to stand in front of Dean. “I’m not, I’m glad to be out of the whole thing. I’d rather die down here a mortal, with you, than live up there where I don’t belong anymore.”

Sam and Bobby exchanged a look but didn’t say anything.

“What will they do, Heaven I mean, when they find out about the Leviathan and that they can possess any one of us?”

“The only thing they can do. Cleanse the planet.”

“Croatoan?” Dean asks, confirming his fears.

“Most probably.”

“So it could still happen?” Dean shakes his head, putting his face in his hands.

“What could still happen?” Cas asks, pulling his hands away from his face and keeping his hands on his wrists.

“2014. The 2014 I told you about. Everything between then and now has been for nothing.”

“Nothing is ever for nothing. Everything has its purpose.”

“But it can’t happen Cas, there was stuff, stuff I didn’t tell you about.”

“We’ll deal with it. We always have.” A small smile played on his lips. “And I won’t host orgies. I promise.”

“Damn it Cas, this is serious. You died. And I let it happen. I let you walk into a trap. I planned it. I practically killed you.” He digs his nails into his palm to stop himself from crying.

“That won’t happen this time. You’re not him anymore.” He took one of Dean’s hands in his.

“How do you know?” Dean asked, more scared of himself than any monster he’d ever faced.

Castiel brought his other hand up to Dean’s cheek, stroking it gently before kissing him, their first kiss in the real world. After a few seconds he pulled back and took a deep breath. “That’s how I know.”

Dean stared at him for a few seconds, hoping he was right. “We need to get you a suit, like now, this is freaking me out.” He leaned in quickly, whispering in his ear. “I kept the coat.”

Castiel nodded and took a few steps away from him, smiling before he turned and headed for the door. Sam caught his arm as Dean made to follow him.

“Catch me up on the way there?”

“Dude, it is a _long_ story.”

-x-fin-x-

 _My road of good intentions led where such roads always lead._  
-Elphaba; Wicked.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Written for round one at Dean/Cas Dystopia (http://dc-dystopia.livejournal.com). 
> 
> I'd like to thank my beta, verucasalt123 for being so much more than a beta. I'd also like to thank my artist, usarechan who not only has created such beautiful artwork but has put in an astonishing amount of work and effort, she really went above and beyond. 
> 
> I will link to usarechan's Art Post when she posts it :)


End file.
